


I've Been Here Before

by AgentKitsune



Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Headcanon, Partial Retelling, Semi Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentKitsune/pseuds/AgentKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As far as she knew, she was supposed to be the only Hero right now. But there was still a shadow across the fire and at her back on the trails. Judging by the murmurs, she isn't the first to go through all of this.</p><p>
  <i>“Only one Hero. Then what does that make me?”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“A villain.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Do I really only get to pick between two?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My Fiance introduced me to Fable 3, and its multiplayer mode. I found myself finding it funny that no one would notice this other Hero poking around (unless there was a fight). It really stood out to me when I played a Hero that was much farther ahead than his. This idea rolled around in my head and vaguely took shape.
> 
> It will stick mostly to the main story for now, but will veer off depending on how the brainstorming goes.

                “Walter?” The Princess’ voice was quiet. Sitting around their borrowed campfire, the two refugees were bundled in clothes to match the rest of the Dweller’s. Looking up from where he was going through their few supplies, Walter watched his charge. She was absently running a hand over her collie dog’s head, the canine surprisingly unbothered by the cold. Snuggled against the Princess’ side, it would occasionally lick some snow by its paw.

                “Yes, my Lady?” Walter prodded gently. Despite her saying he didn’t need to worry about titles after everything, and after everything that had _happened_ , he would still fall back on old habits.

                “Is there only ever one Hero at a time?” She looked up from the flames, green eyes reflecting the flickering light. Her blond hair was braided and wound back in a tight bun. Despite her upbringing that kept her hidden from the world outside the castle, roughing it didn’t seem to be bothering her. If anything, she had taken great delight in jogging about the camp, allowing herself to be distracted for a few minutes.

                Settling back, Walter contemplated her question. He ran a hand over his lip and chin, thinking. As he mulled it over, the Princess scratched her pet’s ruff, smiling weakly when it looked up at her. She had been spaced out for some time earlier, speaking to Jasper within the Sanctuary. The strange, protected place they had teleported to before now seemed accessible by the Princess’ mind. When she had snapped out of it, a different sword had been upon her back. It let Walter know she was certainly her father’s daughter.

                “From what I know of legend,” Walter said slowly, “there may have once been more Heroes. Different people with special abilities in their own fields. But the world grew quiet for so long, they drifted out of notice, out of mind. Then your father, the King, was the last known Hero.” Taking a sturdy branch, he gently stirred the fire’s coals, helping the small blaze. “Until, now, you took up the role.” He looked at her, eyes creased with gentle concern. “But you are not alone. You’ll see.” This time an encouraging smile coaxed one out of the Princess. “I’m sure you will become a great ruler, just like your father.”

                A call came from one of the nearby wagons. Nodding to the Princess, Walter got to his feet. Some of the Dwellers knew him from his travels with the late King, and it helped for him to speak with them. Often their questions were about the Princess, and it gave him hope of how eager they were. They could see how wronged the young woman had been. Even Sabine had told him that the Princess had more inner fire than he had seen in some time.

                The Princess watched Walter go, hand stilling on her pet’s back. Her other arm wrapped around her legs as she tucked her knees towards her chest. The fire spat and tossed a spout upwards. It made her blink. When it settled, she could see someone else in Walter’s place, across the fire from her.

                Dressed in clothes she had only seen in books about far-flung lands, the inky color didn’t help them stand out from the night. A pointed hat was tipped so the brim hid their eyes. Dark red adornments were tucked around them. Sitting with their legs propped up like hers, their slender fingers were laced together, clasped between their knees, the leather gloves dotted with small snowflakes drifting around them. The Princess swallowed nervously. No one but her had seen this young man, nor had they heard him.

                “… He said there’s only one Hero right now.” She whispered, a small quaver in her voice. Her dog lifted its head long enough to look, then rested again. If they were unbothered, that had to count for something. Across the campfire, there was a wide, wicked smile.

                “Only one Hero. Then what does that make me?” His gloves had the same gauntlets hers did, meant for casting magic. Something only the Hero was meant to have. Gathering herself, the Princess lifted her chin.

                “A villain.” She tried to keep steady. Chuckling, he seemed to look aside, then back to her.

                “Do I really only get to pick between two?” He asked. Like her, he didn’t raise his voice, keeping their conversation hushed. “Maybe…” He lifted his hands, palms towards her, as if revealing a magic trick. He even wiggled his fingers. “I’m your Guardian Angel.” The Princess gave an unladylike snort. He kept smiling, but not maliciously. Not taking offense to her disbelieving look, he clasped his ankles, bringing his knees together and putting his chin atop of them. With posture close to hers, she supposed he looked her age. He just _felt_ older, was all.

                “Then where were you before?” She demanded. To her surprise, his smile turned melancholy.

                “Life is cruel.” He said plainly. “But maybe I’ll help you anyway, mm?”

                “We should be getting some sleep.” Walter’s voice cut across any further conversation. The Princess lifted her head to watch his approach, then quickly looked across the campfire. The strange figure was gone, not leaving even an imprint on the blankets to signal he had been there. “Will you be able to rest?” Looking back up at Walter, she mustered up a smile. She had a monumental task ahead of her, and perhaps she was going crazy. Yet, she wasn’t afraid.

                “Yes, Walter. I’ll be alright.”


	2. Chapter 2

                The first time she realized she wasn’t crazy was when she discovered other people _could_ see the young man.

                Except that was only when fighting.

                The Princess had managed to assure Walter she would be alright striking out on her own. Taking care of bandits was hardly a problem for her. Her sword took care of anyone within range, her pistol for anyone at a distance. If all else failed, magic was perfect for clearing the field. She had been taking care to only go so far, heavy injuries usually enough to let her by without trouble. She was starting to realize she wouldn’t be able to do this all the way, but she kept hesitating on the final shot or swing.

                A large group of bandits ambushed her on the path. Her dog had managed to warn her a few seconds before they struck. The faithful canine did its part to protect her, biting and ravaging limbs of anyone who got too close. Several of the larger bandits, however, were pushing in. Fire kept burning their skin, but they persisted.

                “C’mon lads! There’s only one!”

                “How about two?”

                The question was posed with dark humor. The skinny bandit turned just in time to have a heavy hammer come crashing down on his skull. The Princess stared in shock as he was driven against the ground. A wicked blade on the back-end of the weapon dug into his flesh, and, with a quick twist, broke his spine and his death-yell. For a moment she was transfixed by the blood leaking out of him. Standing with a hand wrapped around the handle, her mysterious young man from before observed their stunned faces. Then he grinned.

                Everyone exploded back into action. As if a switch had been flicked within her, the Princess no longer hesitated in pulling the trigger one more time. Her sword dug a little deeper, struck a bit harder. As if oblivious to any blows upon him, the figure wielded the scythe-like hammer with ease. A low whistle let her know how fast it was being swung. Then he planted a palm over a bandit’s face and activated a fire spell.

                That was finally deterrent enough for the rest to run. Struggling to catch her breath, the Princess looked around. At least six dead bodies were strewn upon the path. Not all of their deaths were clean. Holstering her gun and sheathing her sword, she quickly ran a hand down her dog’s back. The canine was alright, shaking itself to rid any feeling of grabbing enemies. At last, she had to look where she was the most reluctant to.

                He was still standing there. Hammer planted against the ground, his hands layered over the base of the handle, chin resting on top. Posture slightly stooped, his hips swayed a little until he noticed her watching. Mouth in a neutral set, he tipped his head to one side. Then, one finger extended and pointed at a corpse on the ground. It seemed at random, but part of the Princess knew that was the one she had first let her sword cut through to the heart.

                “I’m guessing, that was the first one you’ve ever killed.” He said. Lips pressed in a thin line, the Princess nodded, swallowing back a lump in her throat. She wondered if she should feel guiltier. They _had_ been trying to kill her, but couldn’t she have just done enough to deter them? Or would it ever stop there? Things were only going to get worse; she was going to be in the thick of battle at some point. She couldn’t get teary over each one.

                A touch made her almost jump out of her skin. One hand tipping his hammer aside, the strange figure had reached out and barely touched her shoulder. She stared at him with wide eyes. Beyond the fight, this was her only sign he was solid, real. It was hard to tell, but there could have been something like understanding on what was visible of his face. Then he gave her shoulder a firm pat and straightened back up.

                “Well!” Swinging the hammer in a circle with one hand, he let it rest across his shoulder. “I can still do some damage.” He grinned, baring his canine teeth at her. With wide steps, he continued down the road in front of them. “Now if you can just get your darn ice spell, I can do things properly!” Startled, she scrambled to catch up.

                “What are you talking about? Hey! What ice spell?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given the statues of both Heroes would appear on the Road to Rule, I figured Theresa would know what was up.

                “You can see him?” The Princess breathed in revelation. A great relief bubbled up in her chest. Theresa slowly nodded, hands clasped in front of her. Behind the estranged royal daughter, the young man in black backed up, scowling. Arms folded, he looked away and refused to speak. She looked from him to the Seer, expression pleading. “Who is he?”

                “Complicated.” Theresa murmured. When the one-word explanation obviously wasn’t enough, she sighed sadly. “He is you.” The Princess pulled up short. She gaped at the tanned woman, mind spinning. How could _he_ be _her_? She was, well, she was her! Rather, she was herself! “The threads around him are so tangled,” the cloaked Seer continued, “but I do know that. In some way, he is you. Another version of yourself.”

                “Why didn’t you tell me!” The Princess exclaimed. She spun about on her heal to look at him. The shimmering, cloudy white world around them made him stand out horribly. “Or did you not know?” He clenched his jaw, then he spat out a reply.

                “I knew.”

                “Then why not-”

                “Because it doesn’t matter!” He shouted over her. She fell silent at his anger. His hands clenched at his sides before he took the long step separating them. The ends of his coat swirled around his ankles. Firm fingers came up to grip her shoulders, squeezing. “Who cares who the Hell I am, as long as _you save Albion!_ ” His voice was a desperate yell. The Princess was mute with shock. This close, she could finally see his full face.

                “… Your eyes.” She whispered weakly. His eyes were red, almost glowing at that. An artistic swirl of black ink decorated a small area around his left lid. At her words, he chuckled mockingly.

                “Oh, not like them, Princess? They _would_ look _horrible_ on you.” Letting her go, he turned on his heal and placed his back to her and Theresa. When she lifted a hand to him, he hissed. “Don’t!” Flinching away, she stared at him a moment. Then, straightening her back, she was the one to grab him. She shoved, forcing him to turn around.

                “Who are you?!” She demanded. He scowled at her, shaking her hand off. With a graceful half-step back, he swept into a bow, arms stretched to either side.

                “Your loyal specter, _your Highness_.” And with that he was gone. Looking about, the Princess gave a growl of frustration. She turned to Theresa.

                “What do I need to do?” Hands clasped, the older woman smiled faintly.

                “What does your heart tell you?” She replied. Gauntlets glowing with fire on one hand and ice on the other, the Princess lifted her head. Theresa smiled with more assurance when she could already see the faint outlines of white wings, ready to burst into existence.

                “I’m going to overthrow my brother. And get answers from them _both_.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the vague head-canon that a Hero can't wield the personal weapons of another. In this case, I tweaked it that one of the weapons you can find (I believe behind a demon door) became a personal one- the hammer that looks like a scythe.

                For a short time, it was unspoken that they wouldn’t mention that moment again. The Princess avoided prying at the topic Theresa brought up. What she did instead, though, was prod at little things. Small questions about what he thought of the kingdom, the people, _anything_ , that might help her figure him out, and understand why he was here. She usually had the best success when she asked them when they sparred.

                “I need to get better,” she reasoned, sword in one hand, “and who better to practice with?” It was even better when she found out they could fling spells at each other without harm. At worst, all they could do was shove each other around, depending on the spell, or make themselves dizzy.

                That was how she learned to hold her spells longer. Even though it left him vulnerable for a moment, he was very good at judging how close or far his opponent was, then charging the spell. Or, as she had seen, he would even let himself take a few hits. Just as it happened to her, bullets never sunk far into his skin, and fell away soon after. They both recovered fast, and it took a long time for them to tire.

                “Work on your endurance!” He taunted when she mentioned this the first time. Then he treated her to a spar session, hands only, to show how long he could take hits from her before a few well-aimed strikes would send her sprawling. He hid himself whenever she mentally visited the Sanctuary, or the Road to Rule where Theresa was. When she learned new spells, he would have them too. The ease he used them implied he had known them before.

                “Did you have a dog?” The Princess would risk asking. It was one of the more personal ones she tried. He had been crouched down, patting her loyal friend. The collie had warmed up to him, and sometimes even would bark at him instead of her, when finding buried trinkets. After a minute of silence, he nodded. She didn’t ask anything else, but, to her faint surprise, he volunteered quietly that his companion had left with someone after an accident. He had done it to keep them both safe. Worried he would clam up again, she didn’t ask who it had been, or what the accident was.

                He remained invisible to anyone outside of battle. There were only rare times he wouldn’t appear for a fight, and that was if Walter, or Benn, or any of her growing allies were around. If she was running errands to help someone, he would hang back, and only step in if things looked risky. Nobody she escorted seemed to notice him.

                “Try this.” He told her, and dropped his hammer into her hands. The Princess almost lost her grip on it, startled. The weapon felt heavy. She thought it was because she wasn’t used to it, but, no, it really _was_ heavy. When he took it back, he yoked it across his shoulders, grinning. “It’s my Hero weapon. I was just curious. Your sword would feel awkward for me, I bet.” It was the only time she heard him admit he was a Hero since they first met.

                “You don’t like guns?” She tried asking. He shrugged, admitting he had never been a good shot with them. Magic, on the other hand, he could sling like a practiced archer. She had seen him pin a bandit’s raised hand to a tree with an ice-spike once.

                When she began taking the offers of some people to ‘own’ their property, she of course insisted they didn’t need to pay much for rent. They could manage their own upkeep that way, and she could still put a little money towards preparations to face her brother, and, later, calculate how to take care of such things across the kingdom. Whenever the Princess did this, her shadowy companion would peer over her shoulders at the paperwork she would later whisk off to the Sanctuary. He seemed concerned at how little she charged at first, but once she showed him she had worked out a plan for long-term, the worry faded.

                “You’ve changed so much.” Walter told her one day. She looked up at him in surprise. Of course everything would have molded her into a different person, but something about how he said it was puzzling. Smiling wryly, her old teacher shook his head, hands spread to the side. “The confidence you’ve gained in your abilities, your knowledge of Albion, how you’re at ease with yourself…” He laughed warmly. “You’ll be a wonderful ruler.” Coming from Walter, the sentiment meant much. It made her almost strut about for the rest of the day. She could indulge in a little conceit now and then.


	5. Chapter 5

                Then came the task to infiltrate Reaver’s party. Unseen at her side, her friend –she felt like he could be called that now- seemed nervous. The way he kept looking around at everyone, checking faces, even biting on his thumbnail through his gloves, all of it screamed to her that something was wrong. When she confronted him, she pointed out that he had done this before. Like the military base in the swamp, when they explored the land, encountered certain people…

                “That’s the question, isn’t it?” He had laughed darkly, peering out from under his hat. His red eyes were glowing. “Do I have a right to say anything? Should I? What if it makes it worse?” Grabbing his hand, she pulled it away from where he had been worrying at his fingers again. It earned her a wary stare, eyebrows drawing together. After a minute of thinking it over, the Princess drew a steady breath and made a decision for him.

                “Don’t tell me.” She said. He continued to watch her cautiously. “If you somehow know something, and even if I rage and scream later, just, keep it to yourself. Unless it really hurts you. Somehow, I think, things would find a way to play out either way. And I need to experience them.” The two stared at each other. She realized they were the same height. Both of them had a slight heel to their boots and everything. Carefully, he lifted his other hand and clasped hers between them.

                “Alright.” He conceded. “At least I’ll know when you’re ready to scream at me.” A crooked smile from him made her mirror it. A pause, then he tapped her hands again and let go. “Maybe, maybe I’ll say some stuff. Sometimes. If you want my opinion.”

                “Of course.” She replied. If it helped her, or helped him, she would listen. He seemed a little surprised at that, so she just laughed. “Now, I have to go put on a silly outfit to sneak into this party, but at least I can quickly change back if I need to. And I guess we don’t need one for you.” The jibe got a snort of laughter out of him. Grinning, the Princess headed off to meet her friends and collect the clothes needed. He trailed loosely behind her, and his presence was comforting.

 

                Of _course_ it was a trap. Rushing in to try and open the cage, the Princess could only hold on for so long as it lifted from the floor. Her focus quickly swung to the archway they had come through. As if in slow motion, she could see the metal bars rattle and start to fall.

                Then something black barreled into Page’s side and _shoved_. With a yelp of alarm, the rebel woman landed on her rear beyond the gate as it slammed down. Scrambling back to her feet, she grabbed the bars and looked at the Princess.

                “Hang on!” She exclaimed. Stunned, but trying to hide it, the Princess shook her head.

                “No! Go find the others! I’ll deal with Reaver.”

                “Ohh, promises, promises.” Reaver’s voice purred out, making her spin about. Scowling up at the figures gathered on the balcony, she clenched her hands into fists. The industrialist spun his cane, clacking the end onto the ground with a pointed _crack_. “Esteemed guests, I do believe _royalty_ has stumbled into our entertainment for this evening! And she’s brought company.”

                Those words made the Princess’ head snap to the side. Standing with hammer at the ready, her shadowy friend was staring up at Reaver. She could see shock written across his profile. Neither they nor Reaver noticed the guests peer down at where Page had vanished; they all thought the wealthy man had meant the rebel leader.

                “He can see you?” She barely whispered. Reaver cut off any reply he might have made.

                “Let the games begin!”

 

                “How could he see you?!” The Princess’ voice was both a scream and a whisper. After parting ways with Page, she strode down the roads leading away from Reaver’s home with wide, stomping steps.

                “I don’t know.”

                “No one else but Theresa has, but that sort of makes sense, but _Reaver_?!” Tossing her hands up, she then remembered while she had magically changed her clothes from the dress to an attire easier to fight in, she was still wearing the mask. She took it off, clutching it in one fist. The poor accessory sailed through the air as she gestured out her confusion. “Well, I guess _you_ can see him,” she held out her hands towards her dog, who merely barked as if they were playing a game, “but _Reaver_ , too? Why not Walter? Or Page? Or-”

                “I don’t want them to.”

                Skidding to a stop on the path, the Princess twisted to look behind her. He had been following at a more sedate pace, but now he had stopped entirely. Several feet separated them, the lamps lining the path causing misshapen shadows across his lower face. Eyebrows drawing together in confusion, she turned around. Wouldn’t it be better if others could see him? Reaver had seemed oddly suspicious by the end of the ‘game’, but if the other rebels were able to see her friend, too, it would make a difference. He seemed to read this in her expression.

                “Really? How do you think they’ll react?” He shrugged almost helplessly, hands spread. “Even if you told them I’m someone you recruited, you can’t hide it for long. The weaponry? The gauntlets? The magic? Or what if I say one thing wrong? Or what if…” To her surprise, he swept the hat off his head. His hair was black, falling about his ears, messy from being kept out of sight. He combed his fingers through it, scowling at the path between them. “How long before they stamp me as a spy for knowing too much. Or by some crazy chance they believe what Theresa told you, what if they ask too much? I can’t answer to them. I can’t- can’t talk to them.”

                “Why not?” The Princess asked. She took a few steps closer. “Maybe it would take time for Page or Ben, but Walter-” His eyes snapped up, narrowing.

                “ _I won’t go near him._ ” He hissed. It wasn’t out of anger, but fear. He backed away from her, shaking. The tattoo on his face glowed with red for a split-second.

                “This is one of those things that hurts you.” She snapped, clenching her hands.

                “And one of those things that could change _everything_.” He replied, eyes narrowing. For several long heartbeats, the two stared each other down. Her dog whined, ears drooping. A cold wind pushed at their sides. Someone in the small town laughed in the distance, but it came from far up the hillside. The Princess watched as his teeth clenched. He was still shaking. At last, she made a choice.

                Walking up to him, she ignored the way he started to flinch back. Instead, her hands came up and cupped his face. Ignoring how intimate the gesture could be, she found there was no awkwardness in it, nothing but concern. His red eyes remained locked with her green ones. A faint lump formed in her throat, as if she wanted to cry, even though there was no reason for it.

                “One day,” she said thickly, “you’re going to tell me everything. Even if I think I hate you. Promise me. I need to understand.” Even if the explanation came too late to save her or another from some horrible fate, she yearned to know. Within her heart, the knowledge of it was essential. He blinked quickly, and she realized he was experiencing the same teary feeling she was. He nodded once, shortly. “Okay.” She whispered. “Thank-you.”


End file.
